Delgano: A Dark Contemporary Interracial Romance

“Turn onto the dirt…now.”

She turned.

One of the figures, a man with a red bandana covering the bottom half of his face, ran toward the car, swinging a machete.

“Stop the car.”

She pressed hard on the brake, and he would commend her later on her ability to keep the car steady. Obviously, she was scared, but she didn’t overcorrect to the point that the car flipped.

“I’m going to get out.” He unsnapped his seatbelt. “And I want you to run for the house.”

He stepped out.

Sayeda exited on her side and started toward the house, but he heard when her feet slid on the asphalt. A glance over his shoulder showed two men standing in front of the small dwelling, and so far, all he saw were cutlasses.

“Stay with me, then,” he called. “Stay by the car.”

He approached the men, hands raised, and played up his accent as if he’d never stepped foot out of his home country. “Please, tell me what is happening,” he pleaded.

Another man, this one wearing a black bandana, approached him with overly confident bowed legs, weapon swinging. He quickly scanned the four he could see, and they were all wearing red and black, a sign of some kind of organized group. It was always a wonder, organized crime and their obsession with colors and insignia. Chamas had forced him to get a brand on his back, up near his shoulder, which he fully intended to cover with tattoos when he got the chance.

The man charged.

Sighing, he removed a pistol from the back of his pants and lodged a bullet in the man’s kneecap.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” he added with enough sarcasm to replace the desert sand. “I’m just a simple businessman.”

He finished off the black bandana.

The other three ran toward the parked vehicles, and he stopped to steady his aim.

It took five shots.

Like a rookie, it took him five shots to bring down three men. What was the point of all that training if he was simply going to waste bullets? And in front of his girl, no doubt.

He turned around.

The two at the house hadn’t yet noticed.

Since they had a bit of time, he kicked the bodies off to the side of the road just in case anyone else needed to pass through. Out of habit, he searched their pockets and bodies for anything that would identify what outfit they belonged to, but all were clean.

Then, he made his way back to Sayeda.

The closer he came, the more puzzling he found her eyes. The most fear he’d seen was when they first approached the barricade, and he figured it probably had to do with being caught off guard. She didn’t show fear in the moments he expected it, although this time, he could tell that she was shaken up.

“Jack and Jill down there,” he pointed at the house with his chin, “haven’t noticed yet. How about we go over and say hi?”

Her gaze fell to the gun. “When did they give you that?”

“You want one?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

They walked until they were within range of the pistol, and he took out the man on the left side of the front door first. When the other one saw his partner drop, he searched for where the shot had come from. For searching, Adrían gifted him with a slug between the brows.

“You’re much more accurate,” Sayeda pointed out. “You weren’t bad before, but I don’t think you would have been able to land that shot from all the way back here.”